


Proof

by sg_wonderland



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4766456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_wonderland/pseuds/sg_wonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Very early days. In an attempt to prove himself, Daniel makes a dangerous mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proof

One of the first things you learn on archaeological digs is that you work, regardless of how sick or sore or tired you are. If you get hurt, you stop long enough to disinfect your cut or scrape, get bandaged up and jump back into it. 

Since you are dealing with very old and very dirty artifacts, not to mention the bones of folks who died of who knows what, this is one step you simply do not skip. So when I came down with a cold, I was determined to patch myself up and keep working. Because that’s what you do.

Working for me, now, entails basically the same approach, just on different planets. However, there is one problem. Standing between my work and me is one very petite, but very determined, Dr. Janet Fraiser. 

In order to be able to go on today’s mission, I’m gonna have to convince her that I’m one hundred percent. That means sliding nausea, body aches and fever past those eagle eyes. But I’ve had a lot of experience in disguising what hurts me. And I know a couple of tricks that usually work for the fever, which is the one thing I absolutely know she will catch. 

About an hour before I head down, I take three Tylenol. And on my way to the infirmary, I down a bottle of ice cold water, knowing it will skew my temperature. I avoid looking at the nurse as she sticks the thermometer in my mouth because there’s no way to disguise my eyes, although the glasses do help. They are busy so I manage to get away with it clean, even though my temperature is up just a hair, but no one seems unduly worried.

Looking back now, I realize it was one of my dumber moves. But I was still trying to prove to everyone, and especially Jack, that I could pull my weight on this team. Lately, it has been insinuated, on more than one occasion, that I’m only on SG1 because Jack feels sorry for me. It makes me mad that people don’t think I can handle this, they just see what they want to see when they look at me. And that’s if they look at me at all. But I have always been a lot tougher than everyone gives me credit for.

Anyway, I fool Fraiser and hit the gate feeling only slightly off kilter. Since it is cool with a soft mist falling, I hold up for the hike to the local village and do the meet and greet with no problems. 

The folks are quite friendly, but basically have no use for either the Stargate or us. They more or less give us the here’s-your-hat-what’s-your-hurry routine. I shrug it off because they are satisfied with their life the way it was, and who are we to try to change that? 

So we break bread with them, thank them for their hospitality, decline the gracious offer to sleep in one of their huts with them, and head back toward the gate. Since it had been a four hour hike to the village and we had gotten a late start back, we make camp when it got dark and look forward to a leisurely early morning stroll back to the gate. 

If only.

Since I have managed to hide the fact that I had eaten very little of the native fare and am still suffering from a fever and newly discovered muscle cramps, I’m feeling more than a bit smug. Until, that is, Jack flops down beside me and without warning, shove his hand underneath my damp bangs. “Daniel, something you want to tell me?”

I rally quickly. “Just a bit of a cold, Jack, really, it’s nothing.”

He grunts, completely unconvinced. “Carter, thermometer.” 

They aren’t actually thermometers, but those little strips you put on your forehead that read whether you have a temperature or not.

I do. Jack had noticed the flush on my normally pale face, and the fevered brightness of my eyes. He doles out a couple of Tylenol and orders me to get some sleep. I grumble as I slide into my sleeping bag, making sure that Jack knows to wake me for my watch.

Unfortunately, when he tries to wake me four hours later, he makes a couple of startling discoveries. My fever is even worse than before, and I can’t move my legs. This scares me to no end, and he tries to calm me down.

“It’s probably nothing, Daniel.” By this time, Teal’c and Sam are standing over me too, and I feel like something under a microscope. I keep trying to move my legs, unwilling to believe that I can’t. 

“Quit thrashing around, Daniel, lie still. Carter, go for the gate, get a med team out here.” He pulls her to the side so that I can’t hear what he’s saying, although I suspect he’s worried about moving me any more than necessary. She takes a flashlight and heads out. 

Teal’c can’t stand not doing something so he is trying to get my fever down by bathing my forehead. Jack pops another couple of Tylenol and between them, they help me take them. “Try to get some sleep. We’ll be home before you know it.”

I know there is no way I can, because I’ve rocketed past absolutely petrified and am teetering on the verge of complete panic. But I let them lay me back down. I know Teal’c is on one side of me and Jack on the other, I do feel safer now, not quite so scared. I go to sleep with the comfort of Teal’c’s hand on my brow. 

 

I don’t know how much time has passed, but the next voice I hear is Dr. Fraiser’s. “Dr. Jackson? Can you hear me?”

I can, the problem is, that I can’t seem to make my mouth move. And then I realize I can’t make my arms move either. I struggle to get something, anything out. “Janet?” There’s no disguising the terror in my voice.

“Just lay still, Daniel.” Like I’m going anywhere? I can’t move here, or hadn’t you noticed?

Another thing that I have gotten very good at is reading Jack’s mood. And I can see that he is scared shitless right now. Not a good thing, ‘because I know he’s scared for me. “Jack.”

“Daniel, don’t try to talk.” He squats down beside me, puts his hand on my shoulder. It terrifies me that I can’t feel it. 

It is oddly important to me that I make him understand. “Sorry, Jack, my fault.” For some reason, that fails to reassure him, he just looks mad. What did I do now? I don’t feel the IV Janet pokes me with, but I see by Jack’s expression that he did. I didn’t know that he hated needles as much as I did, I could see his eyes flare when I didn’t even jump.

“Daniel, I’ve given you something to help you relax. We’re going to put you on a stretcher and I want you to stay nice and still. Don’t try to move or help, we’ll do all the work, okay?”

I try to nod. “Okay, Jan…” I don’t even get her name out before the world goes black.

 

I remember frighteningly little about the next ten days and I later pieced them together from what I’ve been told, what I overheard and what I managed to sneak a peek at in my medical file. 

Janet and Jack would both shit (right before they killed me) if they knew I had figured out how to access those files on the computer, but I would never, ever, look at anyone’s file but mine. This is another little secret I don’t intend for Jack to know; he thinks Sam is the only computer hacker on SG1.

I was evidently in pretty bad shape by the time they got me home. They had to stop and intubate me before they even made it to the gate. Seems I had decided to stop breathing or something like that. 

I’m glad I wasn’t around for that one, I do believe I would hate having that tube stuck down my throat. But the paralysis had moved quicker than even Janet had anticipated and I appeared to be in serious distress before they finally got me jump-started.

All those lovely tests came next and they didn’t even have to knock me out for them. I especially love the one where they stick a big needle in your spine; very glad I wasn’t awake for that one. I have been in the past and it is no fun whatsoever. So I got poked and prodded and shot with dye and X-rayed until I’m certain that I glow in the dark. 

Janet’s best theory was that it might have been something similar to poliomyelitis. I thought they had wiped polio out years ago, but evidently my unusual childhood had left my vaccination history woefully undocumented and me somewhat under-inoculated. 

The combination of a dormant virus, a fever during a gate jump, and exposure to an alien planet’s germs added up to my polio-like illness, evidently. I’m really glad I didn’t know about that until after the fact; talk about scaring the shit out of you, the word ‘polio’ can surely do so.

Janet’s worry was that my fever must have been quite a bit higher than what originally registered when I gated out and this initiated a very real concern about my state of mind at the time, which led to another concern about brain damage. 

The fact that they hadn’t caught it was blamed on a faulty thermometer; no way, even now, do I confess to the ice water trick. Janet would kill me, and then Jack would kill what was left of me. Looking back, I have to admit that wasn’t my finest hour. 

 

Although I have flashes of memories, the first real thing that penetrates is the feel of a hand on my face. Since I was very much afraid that I was never going to feel anything ever again, that touch gets through to me and I force my eyes open. I don’t recognize the big brown eyes staring into mine, but I can hear the confidence, the assurance in her voice when she tells me I am going to be all right. I decide to believe her and try to say so, then I discover that lovely tube that has taken up residence in my throat.

It only seems like minutes later that I get my eyes open again. I did recognize these brown eyes, the face lined with worry.

“Daniel? Do you know who I am?” 

How could I not know? I look at him in total confusion and his worry seems to increase. I struggle around that tube, realizing he needs something from me. It takes me several tries but finally I get my mouth working somewhat. “Jack?” It doesn’t quite come out as I envision, sounds more like a croak than my real voice.

“Hey,” the smile lights up his whole face. “How you feeling?”

I take a mental inventory. “Head hurts.” And so does everything else, come to think of it; I’m hoping this is a good thing.

He grabs my wrist. “Feel that?”

“Yeah,” Just to make sure I can, I move my hand beneath his. My legs, however, still refuse to obey my command.

“Hey, stay still, you need your rest.”

“Been resting?”

“Ten days.” His eyebrows jump up to mock mine. “Yeah, that’s what I said, ten days. Fraiser’s on her way to yank that tube out.”

I grimace at that. Yanking is not what I want to hear. However, Janet does grace me with her presence within minutes, causing Jack to simply disappear. She removes the tube gently, thank you very much. And ice chips, which feel like heaven on my medically abused throat, follow that.

Jack lands back at my bedside, that big coward. He will mouth off to the biggest, baddest system lord, but let them do something medical to one of his ‘kids’ and he’s out the door like a shot. And watching someone take a shot? Please, he turns greener than grass, the big baby. “Where’d ya go?”

“I…um…went to the bathroom.” If I had the energy, I’d confront him for being the liar he is, but I’m simply too tired. He fumbles for words as he sits back down. “Listen, Daniel, when you were out, you babbled quite a bit.”

“More than usual?”

“Well, you weren’t talking about rocks and stuff.” He suddenly sounds amazingly serious; I wish I had my glasses so I can see his eyes better. “Daniel, you know I want you on SG1, don’t you? If I have ever, ever made you feel like you have to prove yourself, I’m sorry. If there is one person on this base you shouldn’t have to convince, it ought to be me. Daniel, are you listening?” He grasps my face, turns it towards him, leaves his hand on my cheek.

I’m not sure how to answer that, mainly because it’s true. I had been feeling like I had to prove something to Jack. But I don’t know if that’s his fault or mine. As I take that in, I feel the need to reassure him, but I also want to be honest with him. “Jack, I know people think I don’t belong here.”

“Like who?” He’s ready to fight for me. That’s kinda sweet.

“Oh, like I’m gonna tell you.”

His eyes flash. “I want names, Daniel. I swear, Teal’c will beat them up for you.” I realize this is what it must be like to have older brothers, the kind who will beat up the guys who beat you up.

I want to tell him thanks, but no thanks, but my eyelids are getting very heavy. I also want to tell him how good it is to actually feel his touch. “Go back to sleep, Daniel. We’ll talk later.” Sounds like a good idea.

 

 

When I wake up the next time, I ask for Janet. She’s there in a flash, must have been waiting for me. “Hey there, how are you?”

I have to ask her the question that I was too frightened to ask Jack. “Janet, am I?” I can’t get the word ‘paralyzed’ past my lips.

Fortunately, she gets it immediately. “No, Daniel, no! Feel this?” She flips the covers back, walks her fingers up the soles of my feet. 

“God.” I can’t stop the sudden tears that pop up as I realize I can feel her touch.

She covers me back up. “I know you’re scared, Daniel, but I promise you’re going to be fine. You may have to do some physical therapy, but I promise, before long, you’ll be hopping all over this place.” She smiles as she hands me a tissue; she knows that thought had me, well, paralyzed. As the tears continue to slide from my eyes, I think I spy a bit of moisture in hers, too. “Dammit!” She grabs a tissue and dabs at her tears without disturbing her makeup. “If you tell anyone about this, I will give you the worst physical you’ve ever had in your life.” We both smile through our tears.

 

 

Actually, it is over a month later that I am pronounced ready for active duty. Jack hovers around me the whole time, both on base and at home. He wants to take me fishing, but thank goodness Janet points out forcefully that most lakefront cabins do not come equipped with physical therapists. So he settles for driving me back and forth to the Air Force hospital for my sessions until I can drive myself.

Even after that, he and Teal’c hover until they almost drive me crazy. I guess I scared the life out of both of them. I think they still want me to drop some names so they can vent their fears by beating the crap out of someone. Although I do appreciate the gesture, just knowing they would kill someone for me is enough. 

I don’t see much of Sam, I think she still has no idea how to take me. But to be honest, I don’t really know how to take her either; I’ve never been friends with a woman before. We mesh nearly perfectly on an intellectual level. But I think she still thinks I don’t belong on a front line team but would never actually say so. At least, not to my face.

 

One day on the way back from therapy, Jack insists I come to base for lunch, because Teal’c and Sam want to see me. I agree, seeing it as an excuse to check on some work. Jack and Sam get called away, so I catch Teal’c’s head turned and sneak down to my office, where he promptly follows and catches me doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing.

“Daniel Jackson, I wish to speak to you.”

“Okay,” his tone has me more than a bit concerned.

“I offer my apologies if I have ever given you the impression that I do not accept you as a teammate.” I squirm, unable to meet his unwavering gaze. “Do you doubt your worth to SG1? To Colonel O’Neill?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I know what Jack thinks of me.” I use sarcasm to hide the embarrassment.

“You do not. O’Neill was most distraught when Dr. Fraiser informed us that she was unsure if your life could be saved.” I fumble to say something, and am shocked beyond words when he reaches across my desk and takes my face in those big, surprisingly gentle hands. “Colonel O’Neill tells me that you have no family, that you have been alone since you were but a child.” 

Unexpected tears spring to my eyes and I try to blink them back. I want to look away, but his eyes compel me. “I know what it is like, Daniel Jackson, to feel that you have no place in your own world. To feel that you don’t belong anywhere, but you do belong. To Colonel O’Neill, to Captain Carter, to General Hammond. To me. You are ours now, Daniel Jackson, of this I am certain. You belong to us.” I simply have no defense against such blatant emotion. I don’t even try to stop the tears now and Teal’c wipes them away with his thumbs.

 

I have a lot of time to think while I was off duty, and the truth is, every single person on the base, at one time or another, thought I shouldn’t be on SG1. I know some people think I am just here because I am Jack’s pet. I am neither stupid nor naïve so I know what part of my anatomy they think Jack is petting. And let me just say, ewww! 

For the first eight years of my life, I didn’t have to prove myself to anyone. My parents loved me unequivocally and I miss that feeling. I was everyone’s darling on all those digs, because I am, after all, my parents’ child so I was curious about simply everything. Both my parents were unabashedly affectionate, so I never lacked for hugs and kisses, something else I desperately miss. My father would often ruffle my hair and tell me that he was proud of me. Even now, a ‘good job’ murmured from General Hammond calls that feeling back with a flash.

And then my life turned upside down and I found myself having to prove myself over and over to strangers. Worthy of being taken into someone’s home and treated like their own child. Worthy of being accepted into college much too young. 

I know most of the folks on Abydos thought Sha’re got the short end of the stick, husband-wise, but she never did. She was the first person in years who didn’t ask for proof. I loved her and that was enough for her.

Despite what he said, I know Teal’c still thinks I should be in some ivory tower somewhere, completely out of harm’s way. And Sam does, too. I see the way those two hover over me when we’re off-world. Just waiting to be proven right, that I have no business taking a place on SG1 that should have rightly gone to a real soldier.

 

So as I stand here in the gate-room I know I still have to prove myself to everyone else.

“SG1, you have a go.” I can’t resist turning around to smile at General Hammond, who nods with a little smile of his own. “Nice to have you back, Dr. Jackson.” I feel a hand on my shoulder and know that Sam is there. 

“Indeed it is, Daniel Jackson.” Teal’c gives me a formal little bow.

“Ready, Daniel?” A hand shoves my hat back from my face.

“Yeah, Jack, I’m ready.”


End file.
